


Starring Role

by cate-lynne (catelynne)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catelynne/pseuds/cate-lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader is convinced that Dean doesn't really love her and starts to pull away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Supporting Role

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Starring Role by marina and the Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader begins to suspect that Dean’s feelings for her have changed.

I was returning from a hunt, two days early, and heading towards the room that I shared with Dean when I heard it.  Giggling.  Female giggling.  Setting my bags down and quieting my breathing, I crept forward so that I could peek through the bedroom door.  And felt my heart break a little.

There was Dean, naked, with some girl that I had to assume he had found at a bar.  Even though the door was wide open, they were so focused on each other that they didn’t notice me.  Slowly, carefully, I turned around, grabbed my things, and left.

…

Three days later, I was jolted awake in my motel room by my ringing phone.  I fumbled over the side of the bed for my crumpled jeans and pulled the little device from my pocket.  Looking at the caller ID, I groaned as I dropped my jeans back to the floor.  _Dean Winchester_ , it said.  I didn’t want to answer, but knew that it would be worse if I didn’t.

“Hello?”  I said, pressing the little speaker against my ear.  My voice was groggy and I had to stifle a yawn.  It was three in the morning, I noted.  Why was he calling me at this ungodly hour?

“(Y/N)?”

“What, Dean?” I kept my voice neutral.  He didn’t know that I had seen him with that…woman and I had no intention of telling him.  Honestly, I had no idea what I was going to do.

“Are…are you okay?  You were supposed to be back yesterday.”  He sounded concerned and I had to bite back a surge of anger.  He didn’t get to do that, he didn’t get to sound sweet and concerned when I knew the truth. 

“Uh, yeah.  I was just…tired.  Decided to spend the night.  I’ll be back by tonight though, alright?”

“Yeah, okay.”  There was relief in his voice.  Probably glad that he had a few more hours with his “friend” before I got there.  “I’ll see you later, baby.  I love you.”

“Bye.”  I hung up.  It was the first time I had ever not said _I love you_ back. 

He probably wouldn’t notice.

…

When I got back to the bunker, Sam was waiting for me in the garage.  Well, that was ominous.  He was leaning against the Impala but straightened up and strolled over when I cut the engine.  He was watching me carefully as I pulled my bags from the back seat of my glossy red ’67 Camaro and I tried not to look him in the eye.  Sam was my best friend and he had a knack for figuring out when something was wrong with me.

“How’d it go?” he asked, trying to sound casual. 

“Fine,” I shrugged.

“I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” I said and went to walk around him, but he put a hand out to stop me.  I tried to neutralize my expression before looking up at him.  “What?”

“Are you okay?”  His brow was furrowed.  “Dean said you sounded strange on the phone.”

“I’m fine.”  I didn’t know how much to tell him.  Or if I should even tell him anything.  What if he already knew?  At that thought, I felt something in my heart tighten.  Sam wouldn’t do that to me.  He wouldn’t hide Dean sleeping around behind my back…would he?  I knew there was almost nothing Sam and Dean wouldn’t do for each other.  Did that include concealing infidelity?

“If you say so…” he said and tried to pull me into a hug but I sidestepped.  He looked shocked and hurt.  I had never done that to him before.  I struggled to push down my guilty feelings and gave him a brittle smile before walking away. 

…

I stopped in the room that I shared with Dean to drop my bags before heading towards the shower.  Even though I was relatively clean since I had showered that morning in my motel room, I could be alone in the shower and have some time to think.  I needed to decide what I was going to do.  Should I confront Dean?  Let him explain?  I knew him well enough that I could already guess what he was going to say.  That he had been drunk, that she didn’t mean anything to him, and how sorry he was.  That he loved me.  I didn’t want to hear that.  Maybe I should find Sam and tell him what had happened.  He would be compassionate and comforting…and angry on my behalf, which could lead to a confrontation with Dean that I wasn’t sure that I wanted yet.  What did I want?  Should I stay or should I go?  Was it finally time to move on?  Or could we fix this?

I had a lot to think about.

…

After my shower, I walked quietly back to my – our – room.  When I was just outside the door, I could hear voices.  Sam and Dean were talking quietly.  It took me a minute to understand that they were talking about me.

“I’m serious man, something’s wrong.  She wouldn’t even look me in the eye or hug me.”

“Can’t blame the girl for wanting a little space, Sammy.”

“No, this is different.”  Sam was quiet for a second before he burst out: “What did you do?”

“Me?  Why do you think I did something?”

“Because, Dean!   It’s the only thing that makes sense.  You did something to her.”

“I-”

I cleared my throat as I walked in, causing Sam and Dean to jump.  Sam looked guilty and concerned while Dean gave me a little smile and got up to walk over to me.  I was dressed in a pair of shorts and one of Sam’s old t-shirts.  Dean put a hand on my waist and leaned forward to kiss the top of my head.  I kept still, fighting the urge to flinch away from him.  I saw Sam start to look disturbed by the blank expression on my face, so I pulled away from Dean to grab my battered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ off of the bedside table.

“I told you I’m fine, Sam.”  I started walking back towards the door.  Sam was about to respond when Dean interrupted.

“Where are you going?”  Usually, when I got back from a hunt, all I wanted to do was snuggle with Dean on the couch, letting him reassure himself that I was alright.  But the thought of showing any sort of affection for him now make me feel slightly nauseous. So I was going to one of my hiding spots, an unused room in a part of the bunker that the boys didn’t go near.

“To read,” I replied, purposefully keeping answer vague.

“Oh,” was all he said and I could see the realization in his head – Sam was right, something was wrong.  But I didn’t stick around to be questioned.  I walked out of the room and down the hall quickly, heading towards an area that was dark and cool.  I didn’t feel the need to turn the lights on.  I knew this area like the inside of my gear bag.  I had set up an old, comfortable armchair in the back corner with a single, dim lamp beside it.

When I got there, I sighed, flicked on the lamp, and flipped to the final page of the book.

_“Gatsby believed in the green light…”_

That line had always resonated deeply with me.  Gatsby picked out that green light that, to him, represented everything he wanted and everything he would never have.  The romance and humanity of it had always struck me as beautiful.  But it wasn’t the line I was looking for.  I flipped backwards through the book. 

_“His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.”_

My world was full of demons and monsters and the worst things that people could imagine.  I was surrounded all the time by nightmares and death.  I had seen and fought and killed some horrible things.  And yes, saving people was worth it, but it did nothing to balance out the darkness that the endless cycle of fighting and killing was infecting my mind with.  At first, I had thought I could do the work, day in and day out, and not take it with me.  I was wrong.  I had been headed down a dark path…until the Winchesters found me.  They were my enchanted objects – the very best and worst of humanity, tied up in two brothers that were desperately trying to save the world.  Lucifer and Michael’s vessels, a Child of Azazel and the Righteous Man, arguably the best hunters the world had ever seen – they were my miracle.  But now…

_“His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one.”_

Never had I understood that line more.

…

Hours later, when I thought Dean would for sure be asleep, I returned to our room.  Opening the door, I saw that the light was off and sighed in relief. I tiptoed to my side of the bed and tried to slip under the covers as gently as possible.  But when I lay down and shifted to my side, I saw that Dean was awake and looking straight at me.  I went to roll over, but his arm around my waist caught me and made me freeze.  He pulled me closer.

“Hey,” he said, voice quiet.

“Hi,” I whispered.  He was quiet for a moment and I prayed that he would let go.  No such luck. 

“What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Um, nothing?”

 “Really? Because you’ve been acting kind of strange since you got back.”

“I’m fine,” I said, but I wasn’t.  I could barely look at him and the longer we were talking, the tougher it got to remain in control of the storm of emotion in my head.

“…Okay.  If you want to talk about it, let me know.”  Then he leaned in to press a tiny kiss to my forehead.  I couldn’t help it – I flinched.  Dean pretended not to notice, just pulled me against him so that my head was on his chest and there was no space between us.

When he had fallen asleep, I lay awake, still as a statue.  I was listening.  I could hear his heartbeat, slow and peaceful.  It kind of pissed me off, knowing that he was able to relax and dream, that he had no guilt over what he had done.  I had thought long and hard all day over what I was going to do and I had finally come to a decision.  I was going to confront Dean in the morning.  I couldn’t handle another day like this.  It was too painful to be around Dean.  I had barely been able to handle the small amount of time I had spent with him today.  The crushing weight of his betrayal was killing me.  My heart couldn’t take anymore.  It was cracked and structurally instable, ready to collapse at any moment.  I couldn’t let that happen.

But then it did.

“Mmm…Halley,” Dean muttered.  I gasped.  He was dreaming about her.  “Halley…yeah…”

I was frozen for a second before it happened.  I saw it in my mind’s eye – my heart shattered like glass and all the little pieces spiraled away from each other, too tiny to ever be put back together again.  I could almost hear it, it was that real.  Careful not to wake Dean, I got out of bed and grabbed my bags.  I started blindly shoving my things into them, not paying any special attention.  The last thing I grabbed before I left the room was my copy of _The Great Gatsby_.  I paused at the door to look back at Dean where he was sleeping. _You don’t love me.  You don’t love me._ I watched him for a moment before slipping out of the room and gently pulling the door shut behind me.  I was almost to the garage when a hand caught my arm and spun me around.

“Where are you going, (Y/N)?” Sam sounded concerned, but not surprised.  Then he saw the tears on my face and took a step closer.  “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.  I just pulled away and started walking towards the garage, my exit, again.  Sam walked beside me.

“Please don’t leave.” He sounded upset but I blocked him out.  I was drowning in my own grief at the moment.  “Just…talk to me.  Please.”

I dumped my things in the back seat of my car and turned to face him.  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out but a sob.  Sam pulled me into his arms and I went limp.  He let me cry on his shirt for twenty minutes before I backed away.

“You didn’t know.”  It wasn’t a question.  How could I have thought that Sam knew about what Dean was doing?  I wiped my face, taking deep breaths.

“Didn’t know what?”  He looked so confused, like a puppy.  It made me want to hug him again. 

“Um,” I said, taking another deep breath.  “Ask Dean who Halley is.”

“What?” he was still confused, but not for long.  I saw the comprehension in his face a second before the anger took over. “That son of a bitch.”

I didn’t answer.  I just turned to my car and went to pull on the handle when Sam stopped me.

“You don’t have to leave.”  He searched my eyes for a few minutes, before letting go.  I could see how much it pained him to release me, a member of his tiny family, but I knew he would never make me do something I didn’t want to.  He nodded in understanding and swept me up in a hug that had my feet a foot off of the ground.  When he set me back down, he kissed me on the cheek.  “Call sometimes, okay?”

“Sure,” I said, climbing into my car.  Sam leaned put his leaned down and I rolled down the window.

“I know why you have to go, but I also know that Dean that does love you.  He’s gonna freak when he finds out you’re gone.  What do you want me to tell him?”

“Whatever you want,” I said, staring at the opening garage door.  When I continued, my voice had dropped to a whisper.  “You know, when you fall in love with someone, you kind of expect to be the star of the show.  That’s all people really want, is to have the starring role in someone else’s heart.  But now I’ve been shoved to the back of the stage.  Just a supporting role.”

“(Y/N)…” Sam sounded so sad.  I gave him the best smile I could manage before starting the car.

“I’d rather be alone than play a supporting role.”

Before he had a chance to reply, I hit the gas and sped away.


	2. Heartless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader has spent six months away from Sam and Dean. When they finally reunite, Sam and Dean are shocked to discover the changes in the reader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to add a little section at the end from Sam’s point of view so that we could see what happened after the reader left the room.

_My foot slammed down on the gas, sending my car flying down the road.  I didn’t care where I was going, just as long as it was far, far away from the bunker and Dean and everything that I had thought was my home.  It felt like it was burning, like the world I had known was crumbling into nothing.  I drove non-stop for hours, tears running down my face. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the road ahead of me and I saw a lone buck in the middle of the road, for too large to get out of the way of my speeding car.  I yanked the wheel, disregarding the “no swerve” rule.  It didn’t apply to an animal that size.  The torrential rain that had started only five minutes ago had already made the road slick and treacherous.  I could feel the back tires slide out behind me and I gasped as the car hit the curb and tipped.  For a moment, it was like I was suspended in the air.  In the next minute though, the car was rolling down the wet, grassy embankment and landing in a twisted heap in the ditch.  Sometime during the pitching around inside the car and losing any sense of up and down, I had gone through the windshield, luckily out of the path of the car.  I lay in the ditch, watching the lightning that was decorating the sky above me.  I had to smile a little bit to myself.  In my attempt to run away from Dean and my broken heart, I had found the ultimate escape.  I let my eyes drift close and surrendered to the darkness…_

I jerked awake, blankets a tangled mess that made me feel trapped.  I cried out a bit as I tumbled off of the bed in my struggle to get free.  When the sheets were thrown in a crumpled ball back onto the bed and I had caught my breath, I stood shakily and made my way to the tiny bathroom.  I leaned my weight forward on my arms and started deep into my own eyes.  The last remnants of fear were draining away, leaving me empty.  Though the entirely unwelcome feelings had disappeared, the evidence of them was still on my body.  My legs shook and my skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat.  When I stood upright and raised a hand to push my hair back, I noticed that it was shaking.

Unsteadily, I shoved a glass under the tap and filled it with cool water.  Gulping it down, I thought about the memories that had plagued my sleep.  I hadn’t had a nightmare about the night I left the Winchesters in months.  Four, actually.  I had felt so much relief when I had finally been able to get a decent night’s sleep for the first time in two months.  Hunting and not sleeping don’t go together.  But I wasn’t hunting anymore so…

I heard my phone go off in the other room and went to check the incoming message after one last look in the mirror.  Scooping up my phone, I unlocked it to see a new message from a hunter named Garth.  I had met him a while back and he liked to keep in touch to make sure I was alright.  I smiled and typed out a quick reply confirming that I was indeed still alive.  He was quick to reply, asking me to come out and see him, but I refused, just like I always did.  Garth was friends with the Winchesters.  Even though he didn’t know about my past with them, I was still reluctant to be anywhere that they might show up.  I set my phone down when I heard a groan coming from my bed.  Turning around, I took in the sight of the (naked) man I had brought home with me last night.  He was good-looking (no as good-looking as Dean) and strong.  A hunter.  He hadn’t told me, but I had seen the anti-possession symbol carved into the leather cuff on his wrist.  I watched him sit up and look around for me.  He smiled at me when he managed to locate me and held out a hand to me.  I strolled over to sit on his lap.

“Damn, baby.  That was…awesome.”

I smiled tightly. “I know.”

Then I stood up and started gathering my clothes.  He watched in confusion as I got dressed and started packing my bags.

“What are you doing?”

I turned to look at him again, feeling a flash of annoyance.  Not giving him any answer, I slung my bags over my shoulder and stalked out the door to my car.  Unlocking the trunk, I threw my bags in, double checking to make sure I had everything.  Then I walked around the side of my recently fixed Camaro and drove away.

He was young, I suppose, so he must have thought that this _meant_ something.  Wrong.  If he, or anyone, imagined sweeping me off my feet and making my heart flutter (or whatever), they would be sorely disappointed.  It wasn’t possible.  I had no heart.

Dean Winchester had made sure of that.

…

Six months ago, I woke up in a hospital with a few broken ribs, severe bruising on my back, several deep lacerations on my arms and legs, and a curiously empty feeling in my chest.  It had taken me a few days of lying immobilized in the hospital for me to figure out what was wrong.  That place where, previously, there had been a deep ache, was suddenly numb and unfeeling.  I tried several times to force myself to feel something, but nothing came.  When they discharged me, I tried to move on, attempting to put back the heart that I could feel getting further and further out of reach.  It had only returned for one night.

During those first few days, I had gotten hundreds of phone calls and texts from Dean, begging me to come back, to give him a second chance, or to just let him know that I was okay.  Sam sent me a few messages, trying to make sure I was still alive.  I ignored everything.  It made me feel better, like I was the one in control.  Like I wasn’t starting over because Dean had ruined me, but because I chose to.  The illusion didn’t last long.

I had originally planned not to read or listen to any of Dean’s messages.  I had to stay strong and I knew it would be harder to stay away if I knew what he was saying.  But a week after I had left, I gave in.  I just missed him, I wanted to hear his voice.  Big mistake.  That was when my heart decided to reappear.  I was crying mess under the sink in a tiny bathroom in a crappy motel as I held the phone to my ear and started listening.

_“Hey, (Y/N), where are you?  I woke up this morning and you were gone.  Let me know what’s going on, okay?”_

_“(Y/N), I’m starting to get worried.  Where are you?  Please, pick up the damn phone so I know you’re okay.”_

_“(Y/N), Sam told me what…what happened.  I can explain.  Just come home.”_

_“Damn it, (Y/N)!  Where are you?”_

It went on and on, nearly two hundred messages.  Some of them were sad, others panicked, a couple angry.  All of them had an undercurrent of concern and guilt though.  After I had listened to each one and read every message (which followed in much the same way as the voicemails), I erased them.  I read Sam’s messages (wishes that I was safe and happier where I was – sweet Sam knew I wouldn’t be coming back) and deleted those, too.  It was at that point that my heart left again.  I got rid of everything that Dean had given me.  I tossed out his shirts and the weapons that he had given me.  I deleted any pictures of him on my phone and got rid of any classic rock CDs in my possession.  I resolved to forget him, to move on.  The only thing I kept was a necklace that he had given me.  It had been his mother’s and I would never part with it if I didn’t have to.  The tiny diamond heart rested just above the place where my own should have been.

That was the last time I had felt something...human in six months.  Ever since, I discovered that I was ruthless and vicious on hunts, killing monsters with a sick kind of pleasure that I sometimes reflected probably wasn’t good.  After hunts, I went to bars and found young, handsome men to take back to my motel room.  I had lost track of how many men I had slept with.  And in the morning, I would pack up and leave, looking for the next hunt and starting the cycle all over again.

But the fake flirting and forced friendliness that I was showing the world was starting to weigh on me.  The effort to seem normal drained me mentally while the reckless abuse that I sought on hunts wore me out physically.  Covering up what was wrong with me was slowly killing me but I didn’t know how to stop.  I kept trying to force myself to feel something, _anything_ , but it never worked. 

…

A few days later, I was just wrapping up a hunt involving a vampire nest when Garth called.  I frowned at my phone for a second, cleaning the blood off of my machete.  Garth didn’t call.  He texted me.  Something must be wrong.

“Hello?” I said, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder as I gathered up my things and prepared to leave.  All I head was static for a moment, interspersed with some shouting in the background.  “Garth?”

“(Y/N)?” he panted.  I felt my concern grow.  “That you, darling?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a bit of a situation.”

I sighed. “Where are you?”

“Um…Lincoln, Nebraska.”

I nodded.  I was only a few hours’ drive away in Iowa. “What’s going on?”

“Several…” he trailed off as the background shouting suddenly got louder.  There was the unmistakable sound of shrieking vampires, suddenly cut short when Garth presumable cut their heads off.  “Several vampire nests.  Fighting over territory in the city.”

My eyes widened.  It was rare that vampires warred amongst themselves, but when they did, it was always messy.  I started walking faster towards my car.

“I’ll be there in two hours.”

“Great, amiga, just hurry, alright?”

“Got it.”

Then he hung up and I flat out sprinted towards my car.

…

When I arrived at the address that Garth had texted me, I saw it was a rundown shack of a house.  Half of it was falling apart and the other side did not look structurally sound.  Concerned, I grabbed my laptop case and headed inside.  Garth wasn’t hard to find.  He was slumped on a ratty old couch in the main room, eyes closed and blood all over.  I rushed over and dropped to my knees.

“Garth?  Garth!” 

His eyes didn’t open but I heard him mutter, “About time, girlie.”

Sighing in relief that I wasn’t too late, I unzipped my laptop case and pulled out the travel first aid kit that I carried in there.  I also had my precious laptop (Sam had given it to me), my tattered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ , and my hunter’s journal.  I immediately got to work on clearing the blood off of Garth, trying to identify the source of the blood.  Turns out, he only had one injury, what appeared to be a stab wound in his shoulder.  He was such a wreck because apparently it really hurt getting thrown through a window.  I had never tried it, but I imagined it wouldn’t be very much fun.

After I stitched him up and forced some whiskey into him, Garth woke up a little bit more, sitting up a little against the arm of the couch and smiling at me.  I knew that the whiskey hadn’t exactly been ideal (Garth was a lightweight – almost embarrassingly so) but the pain had to be numbed somehow, otherwise Garth was going to useless.  Worse than useless, actually.

“Hey, Garth,” I said softly, still doing my best to wipe the blood off of his face and neck.  When I was around Garth, I felt like I could actually be myself.  If I could figure out how to turn off the act.  With how I was, I couldn’t exactly care, even though I wanted to.  No, like Nick Carraway and Jordan Baker, the best description was tender curiosity.  It wasn’t much, but I would take it and hope it be enough to fix me eventually.  “How you feeling?”

“(Y/N),” he said, smiling a little.  “You came.”

“Of course I did.  And now I’m force feeding you whiskey.”

He chuckled.  “Tryin’ to get me drunk, (Y/N)?”

“Definitely.  And then I’ll seduce -”

At that moment, the sound of a car engine approached.  I tensed, but Garth waved a hand in my face.

“Relax.  I called some friends to help us.  They’re good boys, (Y/N)…”

I knew who it was.  There were only three people Garth would call for help.  Me and…

Suddenly, the altogether too familiar roar of the Impala stopped outside and I unfroze.  I looked around wildly for a way out, but it was too late.  Car doors were slamming and boots were stomping along the rotting wooden porch.  A second later, the door creaked open and Sam and Dean Winchester walked in.  They froze at the same time, identical expressions of shock on their faces.  I was still kneeling on the ground by Garth’s head, a cloth in my hand resting against his cheek as I stared at the men I had left behind and swore never to return to.

But when I saw Dean, I was pulled right back into that day, so many months ago, when I had cried for him and let myself feel for the last time.  He was staring at me, surprised, but I could see the other emotions in his eyes too.  Hurt, worry, relief, love, anger, joy…guilt.  I blinked several times, trying to contain the unexpected onslaught of emotions that my suddenly-there heart decided to throw at me.  I remembered a line from _The Great Gatsby_ that so perfectly described the struggle I was having internally.

“ _Tell ‘em all Daisy’s change’ her mine.  Say: ‘Daisy’s change’ her mine!’”_

I was fighting with myself, trying so hard not to fly into Dean’s arms and never let him go.  I forced myself to remember what it had felt like, that moment when my heart had broken that was etched into my mind and the ache that had followed me afterwards.  I pictured a switch in the back of my head labelled “EMOTIONS”.  Then I flipped it.  And just like that, I let myself go numb again.

I stood up, brushing off my knees and shaking my hair out of my face.  Then I looked at the Winchesters and smirked.

“Hello, boys.”

…

It took the boys a moment to recover from the shock of seeing me.  Then suddenly, Sam was striding forward, sweeping me up into a big hug just like he used to do.  But I didn’t react.  I kept my arms limp and waited patiently for him to set me down.  I looked up at him and blinked.  He was staring down at me, confusion and hurt clear on his face, but I didn’t care.  Next, Dean was in front of me, having come forward when I wasn’t looking.  He carefully took me in his arms and crushed me against his chest.  I didn’t move to return the gesture with him either.  As soon as he let go, I turned and knelt back down next to Garth to clean up more of the blood.  Garth looked between me and the Winchesters, confusion on his face.

“Y’all know each other?” he was watching me carefully.  I made an effort to seem human around Garth.  Still he had seen me go blank like this a few times before and I knew it worried him to no end.

“Yeah, um,” Sam said. “(Y/N) used to hunt with us.  And -”

“I went out with Dean for a while, yes,” I said to Garth’s hairs.  I looked him in the eye when I continued.  “It didn’t work out.  I moved on.”

“Moved on.”  Dean’s voice was flat and I sighed.   I had been hoping not to have to deal with this but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “Moved on?!”

His voice got louder and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam give Dean an intense Moose Bitchface.  Dean ignored him.

“You didn’t ‘move on’, (Y/N).  You _walked out_!”

I turned to Dean with cold eyes and a cruel smirk on my face.  “Oh, Dean.  I’m not the one who was sleeping around.”

I saw him flinch and felt a wave of vindictive pleasure.  Sam was looking at me, a conflicted expression on his face.  I knew he sympathized with me, but the concern and wariness on his face was distracting.  I guessed he was noticing how different I was, but I ignored him.  I ignored Dean, too, so that I could go back to Garth, who was looking between Dean and me.

“Dean, is that true?”

Dean was silent for a minute before he answered. “Yeah.”

Garth nodded before shifting like he was going to stand up.  I let out a noise of protest, but he ignored me.  He shuffled forward to stand in front of Dean.  I watched from my spot of the floor while Sam leaned against a wall.  Neither of us expected Garth, sweet, gentle Garth, to suddenly haul his fist into Dean’s jaw, sending him sprawling on the debris covered floor.  I jumped up to grab Garth as he swayed while Sam went to Dean.  Once I had helped Garth lay back down on the couch, I pressed a kiss to his cheek, and grabbed my laptop case.  I glanced at Sam, who was staring at Garth in shock as he supported Dean.

“My best regards from hell, Sammy,” I muttered before I fled to another room.

…

“Damn it, Garth,” Dean swore.  “Why’d you have to hit me?”

“You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you, Dean,” Garth growled unimpressively.  Sam shook his head, wondering at the strange friendship between (Y/N) and Garth.  Come to think of it…

 

“How did you meet (Y/N)?” Sam asked before Dean could snap something back.  At the question, Sam saw Garth’s entire demeanor change.  He relaxed and a tiny smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“I saved her life.”

“What?” Dean and Sam said at the same time.  “How?”

“Well,” Garth said, glancing between them.  “I was in driving through Colorado on my way to a hunt when I saw a car in the ditch.  I pulled over and found (Y/N).”

Dean sucked in a breath and Sam felt his heart tighten. 

“She had been thrown from the car.  Was in pretty bad shape, too.  So I took her to a hospital and they fixed her up.  She stayed with me for a week after that.”  He shrugged.

“What else happened to her?”

“What do you mean?”

“What Dean is trying to say is that she’s…different from the (Y/N) that we know.  More closed off, tense.”  Sam had been shocked at the change in her.  When they first walked in, he had seen the girl his brother had fallen in love with and had become his best friend.  A few seconds later, her face had gone blank, like she didn’t even recognize them.  He wondered…”What was that bit at the end about?  ‘My best regards from hell, Sammy’?”

Garth sighed and Sam felt a wave of dread wash over him.  He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like whatever Garth was going to say.

“It’s only happened a few times around me, so I’m not sure…”

“Spit it out,” Dean demanded, earning a glare from both Sam and Garth.

“I always get the sense that she’s trying really hard around me, you know?  Fir the longest time, I didn’t know what she was trying to do, but she kept on trying.  Anyway, sometimes, she just…disappears inside herself.  Like she doesn’t exist.  Or doesn’t want to.  This is only the second time I’ve seen it happen.  I get the feeling…”  He stopped to take a deep breath, like he knew what he was about to say was going to upset them.

“Go on,” Sam urged.  He had to know.  If he knew what was wrong with her, he might be able to help her.

“I get the feeling that that’s the way she is most of the time.  Empty, like.  And maybe, when she’s trying so hard, she’s trying – struggling – to be more human.”  Garth shook his head. “My guess would be the ‘hell’ that she was referring to is her life right now.  It can’t be easy to not feel.”

“Shit,” Dean muttered and dropped his head into his hands.  Sam had to agree.  He had been right about thinking he wasn’t going to like what Garth had to say. 

Garth glanced between them.  “It scares the crap out of me.  I didn’t know about your history with her, Dean, so I had no idea what had happened to her.  But it makes sense now.”

“Makes sense?” Sam asked.  Garth ignored him to glare at Dean with more malice on his face than Sam had ever seen on the small man’s face.  It was unsettling, so completely at odds from the Garth that they had come to know.

“You broke her heart, Dean.  A broken heart can change a person…it can break them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gotten a lot of positive feedback on this fic, which i'm very happy about. thank you all for your support and I hope you like the rest!


	3. Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader seems to be returning to normal, much to the boys’ delight.

I trudged after Sam, Dean and Garth into the motel room.  We had talked Garth out of returning to the abandoned house, figuring that it would be safe to stay in the city after the vamps had been taken out.  Once inside, I collapsed face down on one of the beds next to Garth.  He was in much the same position that I was except with his face to the side to breathe.  I was too exhausted to breathe.  When Garth saw me slowly suffocating, he dragged an arm up to turn my head for me.  I opened my eyes slowly too see a tiny smile on his face.

“What?”

“Breathing is kind of important, amiga,” he muttered before closing his eyes and apparently falling asleep.  I was almost asleep as well when I felt it.  Searching fingers caught hold of my own and held tight.  My eyes flashed open and I studied Garth’s unchanged face.  For a second, I felt an ache in my chest where my heart had been.  But I blocked it out when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.  Sam was walking around, hiding weapons and salting the windows and doors, but Dean was staring at me.  More specifically, at where Garth’s fingers gripped mine.  I had no energy to try to care about what he was thinking.  Besides, I needed to feel that Garth was there, next to me, and alive.  I had some so close to losing him so many times during the fight.  I closed my eyes and fell into a sleep that was anything but peaceful.

_“(Y/N)!” Garth shouted and I glanced around to see him pinned by a large female vampire, her hands trying to shove his out of the way and gain access to his neck.  In one quick turn, the heads of both of the vamps I had been fighting dropped to the ground, followed a second later by their bodies, and I tore across the warehouse to help him.  I rushed past Sam, who was concentrating on his own group of vamps.  I was a blur passing Dean, who was trying to fight his way out from the middle of two vampires who decided they would rather fight each other than him.  Then it happened.  I saw her lunge forward, spying an opening, teeth bared and ready to kill.  I felt something inside me turn cold._

_“No!” I screamed.  And whipped my arm out, machete flying…_

_Then the world around me blurred and I was back in the bunker, arriving home from a hunt early and making my way towards the room that I shared with Dean.  The sounds of giggling making me peek quietly around a doorframe to see Dean with another woman.  Feeling my heart break as I turned to leave…_

_“(Y/N)?” Garth was standing in front of me all of a sudden.  “Are you okay?”_

_“Wh-whats going on?” I said, looking around.  We were in parked by the side of a country road, standing by the car with beers in hand.  He chuckled and came to stand next to me._

_“We came out here to see the stars?  Spend some time together?” he reminded me, but I didn’t remember.  Soemthing in me knew that this wasn’t real.  This hadn’t happened.  That feeling was cemented when he leaned down to kiss the side of my neck…_

_Another blur and a slideshow of the men I had slept with in the past six months was playing on a high-speed loop in my mind’s eye.  Their confused faces when I left, the anger or hurt that some of them displayed.  But I still left…_

_The shifted again and I was suddenly back in the fight, later on, when I had seen, almost as if in slow motion, the vampire with eyes locked on Dean.  His back was turned and he was too focused on the two vamps in front of him to notice the one sneaking up on him.  Sam saw what was going to happen a second after I did._

_“Dean!” he shouted, but he was too late.  When Dean spun around, the vamp was practically on top of him.  For about a second before I ran up behind and took its head off.  It fell to the ground in a heap, leaving a shocked Dean staring at me.  Chest heaving, I nodded and ran off again to find more vampires…_

_“(Y/N), come home.  Please.” Dean was begging, pleading with me.  “It’s been driving me crazy, not having you around.  I didn’t know if you were hurt or dead and I - ”_

_I interrupted him, lurching forward to wrap my arms around him.  Again, something in me was saying that this wasn’t right, but I tried to ignore it.  I lost myself in the feeling of his arms wrapped around me again, the feeling of his body heat warming me…_

_“No!” I heard all three of the boys shout when they saw the vampire that rose up behind me.  I tried to turn around, but his teeth were already in my shoulder.  The pain made me scream in agony and –_

“Damn it, Garth! Wake her up!”  I heard Dean shouting and could feel three sets of hands on me.  One was shaking my shoulders, apparently trying to wake me up.  Another was gripping my wrists…why?  The last was cupping my face, trying to calm me down.  The realization of what was going on hit me at the exact same time that the part of me that cared, that wanted to love and be loved, that I had long given up on, suddenly burst in me and tears started to flow uncontrollably.  Two of the sets of hands disappeared, leaving the ones around my face the only ones touching me.  When I opened my eyes, Garth was there, inches away.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, but I wasn’t listening really.  I could feel him, Dean, sitting on the bed behind me.  Before I could stop myself, I was rolling over so that my face was buried in his side and my arms were wrapped around his waist. I could feel Dean gasp and freeze in shock, but I was too out of it to care about what they thought at that moment.

“Shit,” Garth said, louder this time, and it caught all of our attention.  It was rare that Garth would use real curse words.  “She’s bleeding.”

Sam and Garth flew into action, scrambling to find the first aid kit and gather towels and whiskey. Dean didn’t move, he just sat with me, stroking my hair and whispering in my hair.  I couldn’t hear the words, but it was comforting all the same.  I let my eyes drift shut…

Only for them to fly open again when a wet towel swiped across my shoulder, making stabbing pains tear through my abused skin.  I could hear the boys collectively suck in a breath when they saw the wound there.  I thought back to the fight and then to the last part of my dream, where the vampire had bitten me.  That had really happened?

The next few minutes were full of the usual first aid pains.  I didn’t let go of Dean the entire time and he never stopped stroking my hair as Garth did his best to help Sam with the stitches.  When they were done, I felt the shifting that was Dean trying to get up.  I held tighter for a minute before releasing him.  I rolled back over and found Garth already lying beside me again.  I scooted forwards until I could wrap my arms around him.  I just needed the contact, the feeling of another human there with me.  I could feel myself drifting back to sleep and prayed that it would be dreamless.

…

The next time I woke up, everything was dark and the deep breathing of three sleeping men was filling the room.  My head was clear and I thought back over what had happened earlier.  I could feel.  Was my heart back for good?  After a moment of evaluation, I decided that yes, it was.  It wasn’t broken anymore.  More like it was…a little battered and dented in places.  But it was back.  For a moment, I let myself feel joy that I was back to normal.  But then a little voice in my head spoke up.

Was this really a good thing?

Yes?  Maybe?  I had been struggling for a long time.  I had stopped hunting until a few days ago.  After that last guy that I slept with, I had decided that I needed something other than sex in my life, so I had started up again.  Just in time for Garth to call me here.  Just in time to meet back up with the Winchesters. Why?  Was it a sign that I should be back with Sam and Dean at the bunker, falling back in love with Dean and risk getting hurt again?  Or should I stay where I am, with Garth?  Thinking back to the confused dreams I had had, I thought about standing under a giant night sky with Garth.  How easy it would be.  He would never hurt me, I was sure of that.

I sighed.  I was starting to think that life was easier without love.  Without a heart.  Because I could see where this was going.  My very own love triangle.  Dean, Garth, and me, with Sam watching the train wreck that would be us from the sidelines.  I didn’t want that.  I didn’t want any of it.  The feelings, the uncertainty, the guilt over the decision that I had to make.  If only I could turn it back off.

Could I?

Searching my mind, I found that switch again, the “EMOTIONS” written above it fairly glowing.  I sat up.  I looked down at Garth’s peaceful face and then over to Dean’s.  I let a tiny smile take over my face before I flipped the switch and let it all go.

…

When Dean woke up the next morning, the first thing he did was look over at the bed that (Y/N) had shared with Garth.  He had hardly dared to believe it was happening last night what she turned to him for comfort.  It was like seeing the girl he loved come back from the dead.  Over the past few days on this hunt, he had been more and more appalled by the person that she had become.  Throughout it all, though, he was slowly being crushed by guilt because he knew that it was his fault.  He had done this to her.  It hurt to see the blank expression on her face when she looked at him and Sam, only for it to light up a little bit when she was around Garth.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had done to deserve this torment.  But then last night…whatever nightmares that she had had made her open up like he had been waiting for her to.  And she had clung to him like she was never going to let go.  It had made Dean feel like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.  Maybe she would come back to the bunker?  And maybe she would forgive him…let him prove to her that he did love her…

That’s when he realized that there was only one lump in the other bed and a quick glance confirmed that it was Garth.  She was gone. Dean sat straight up in bed.

“(Y/N)?”

No answer.  Getting up, he looked around the small room.  The bathroom was empty and everything was still in place except…he quickly counted the bags that were scattered around the room.  No.  He recounted.  Her bags were gone.

Just then, the sound of a car engine roaring to life outside the room had him racing towards the door.  Dean yanked it open and flung himself outside.  Dean watched as her car, a beautiful red ’67 Camaro, pulled out of where it had been parked last night and headed towards the highway.  Dean was left staring at the back of her car as she tore out of the parking lot going God knows where.

No. No.  She was leaving, leaving _him_ , again.  It took him a few minutes to compose himself enough to go back inside.

“Sam, Garth, wake up.  (Y/N)’s gone,” he said, pulling on his shoes and gathering his things.  Sam sat up, hair wild, instantly on alert.  Garth woke up too, eyes bleary and hair sticking up comically.  Dean would have laughed if he didn’t have this feeling in his chest like all the air was being sucked out of the world.

“Wha’s wrong?” Garth yawned.

“She’s gone.”

“What?” Sam said, running a hand through his hair as he stood up.

“(Y/N)’s gone.  We gotta go find her.”

Sam sprang into action, helping Dean pack up their bags, retrieving weapons from their hiding places, and getting ready to leave.  Garth didn’t move except to lay back down.

“Garth, come on,” Dean growled.  Garth’s large eyes peered out at him over the edge of his blankets, looking at him like he was idiot.

“There’s no use, boys,” his muffled voice said from under the blankets.

“Why not?” Dean demanded.

“If (Y/N) doesn’t want to be found, you won’t be able to find her.”

“Has she done this before?” Sam asked, much more calmly than Dean would have.  Garth nodded.

“Everytime.”

“What do you mean?”

“After a hunt, we usually get a room to spend the night.  But she’s always gone by morning.”  He yawned and rolled over.  “She’ll call me to check in in a couple of hours.”

At that, Sam looked at Dean and shrugged before grabbing the keys.  Coffee run, he said as he left.  But Dean was too busy thinking about the girl that he had seen last night.  She was the same girl that he had fallen in love with, the same girl that had left him six months ago.  She was as different from the girl he had seen over the past couple of days as demons and angels.  He wandered over to the window and pulled the curtain to the side a little bit.  He wasn’t going to give up.  He would always love her, he knew.  And he was going to keep looking for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I planned to end this fic, but if you guys want, I can write another chapter with a happy ending.


	4. New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has been searching for the reader for the past year. He finds her in the last place he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much feedback from the first three chapters and several requests for one more chapter, so here it is! I hope you like it. (I tried to make it happy, Ria. I really did.)

“Sam, move!” Dean shouted as the entire house shook.  “The place is going down!”

They both sprinted towards the stairs as the witch screamed behind them.  They had tracked her back to the abandoned house, thinking it was just going to be a simple kill to wrap up the case, but they had been unpleasantly surprised when they walked through the front door.  The bitch had dozens of people locked in cages in the basement.  As Sam worked to free them all, Dean crept through the main level and then the upper level, searching for the witch.  Well, he had found her.

The ceiling started caving in and Dean shoved Sam.  Sam flew forward, glancing behind to see a huge section of ceiling giving way.

“Dean!” he shouted.  Just before Dean was crushed, a small dark shape hurtled out of the dust cloud, hands flying out and hitting Dean square in the back, sending him sprawling to the ground, safely out of the way of the falling debris.  Sam ran back and helped Dean to his feet, trying to ignore the clenching in his gut that was saying something bad, very bad, had happened.  Just then, the dust cleared a bit to reveal the broken ceiling, a crumpled form underneath it…

“(Y/N),” Sam gasped, making Dean glance up at him in confusion.

“What?”

Without saying a word, Sam pointed.  Dean followed his gaze to where she lay and felt his heart stop.  Almost as if he were on auto-pilot, he lurched over and started trying to shift the wood and plaster from where it pinned her to the floor.  He grunted with effort, but it wasn’t moving.

“Come on, Sam!” he growled, making Sam jump into action.  They worked for a few minutes, trying to ignore the shaking of the house around them and the possibility that they might get buried alive.

Finally, they had pulled her free.  Dean scooped her up, careful of any possible broken bones, and ran after Sam.  Seconds after they made it out of the house, the entire thing crashed to the ground, witch still shrieking inside.  All of the civilians were out, though, and (Y/N) was clutched tightly in Dean’s arms.  Once they were clear, Dean set her down in the grass, kneeling next to her.

“(Y/N).  (Y/N), wake up.”  When she didn’t respond, Dean’s jaw set and he reached out to gently shake her shoulder.  “(Y/N)!”

Carefully, Sam knelt on the other side of (Y/N) before reaching a hand out to feel for a pulse.  He was frozen for a moment, not daring to look at Dean.  His silence said everything, though, and Dean let his head fall, raking his hands through his hair and taking several deep breaths.

“Dean…” Sam’s voice was gentle, full of pity. 

Dean stood up abruptly. “Come on, we’ve got to get these people out of here.  We’ll come back for her.”

Sam nodded and followed his brother, glancing back at the body of his best friend.  She was the only girl, he thought, that had changed their lives so completely and permanently.  He had found some semblance of normalcy with her around, finding that he was laughing more often, that it was easier to breathe, that it didn’t quite matter that he had lost almost everything.  And Dean…Sam didn’t think he had ever loved someone so deeply, so completely and purely, as he had loved (Y/N).  He had screwed up royally, obviously, but that didn’t mean he loved her any less.  The past year and a half since she had left, Sam had watched his brother slowly lose his mind, first beating himself up for hurting her, and then losing his mind with worry trying to find her.

The hardest part, Sam knew, was going to be reconciling the fact that she had died to save Dean.  He knew that Dean had been sure that she hated him.  Or felt nothing, which was almost worse.  What other reason would she have for leaving again?  But then…putting herself in harm’s way to save him was anything but hateful or indifferent.  It was the ultimate expression of love, which was all that Dean craved from her.  Love and forgiveness.  So though Dean had finally gotten what he wanted, Sam wasn’t looking forward to the aftermath.

~

When I opened my eyes, I was staring up at a clear night sky.  It took me a minute to remember how to move, but when I did, I sat up, glancing around.  The ruins of an old house were about a hundred yards to my right.  To my left, there was nothing but open fields.  I stood up on shaky legs, taking in my surroundings.  Vague memories of the house, standing, were trickling in.  There were…people? Lots of people trapped in the basement.  I took a hesitant step towards the ruins but stopped dead when I heard a voice behind me.

“The civilians are all safe.  The witch was crushed to death when the house collapsed.”  I whipped around to find the owner of the gruff voice.  Standing behind me was a man with the bluest eyes I had ever seen and crazy black hair.  He wore a suit and trench coat.  I squinted at him.  Was I seeing things?  Because I could have sworn there were…

“Wings,” I said.  His head tilted to the side at my seemingly random statement.  I clarified.  “You have wings.”

“Ah, yes,” he said, glancing up at the giant black wings that were rising behind him.  “I should have realized you would be able to see them.”

“Who are you?”

“I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord,” he announced.

“An angel?”

“Yes.”  He waited while I thought.  More memories were coming back to me…being locked in some kind of spell that left me unable to move, the fight draining out of me…my surprise when I could hear Sam and Dean in the other room…the house shaking and the witch’s spell breaking.  Running into the other room just in time to see Dean about to be crushed and pushing him out of the way…

“Dean,” I gasped.

“Dean is safe.” Castiel looked into my eyes.  “He grieves for you though.”

“Why would he…” Sudden realization hit me and I took a deep breath.  “I died?”

Castiel nodded.

“And he just left me here?” I wasn’t angry, just confused.  That didn’t sound like Dean at all…

Castiel shook his head, smiling a little.  “They had to get the town’s people to safety.  They intend to return for you soon.”

I nodded.  That was much more Winchester-like behavior.  I smiled at Castiel suddenly, who looked at me suspiciously.

“Well, Castiel, what do you say we get me cleaned up and then go and surprise the boys?”

~

A few hours later, Castiel fly me to the parking lot of the motel where the boys were staying.  With a wave and a small smile, I watched him disappear before turning around and walking towards room number twenty-seven.  I adjusted my clothes as I went, feeling nervous.  I was wearing jean shorts, a white tank top and an old worn flannel that Castiel had given me.  I was guessing it was Dean’s.  I had my boots on and a new leather bag slung over my shoulder.  Castiel had supplies me with new clothes, a new gun and demon knife, along with something called an Angel Blade.  My hunting journal, which I had thought was gone forever, was also there.  As I got closer and closer to the door, I could hear shouting.

“Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, calm down!”

“She’s gone, Sam!  And someone took…We never should have left her there!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

The boys must have back for my body while I was with Castiel.  I sped up.  I was about to knock on the door when there was a crash, like breaking glass.  I hesitated before knocking loudly.  There was sudden silence inside the room.  A second later, the door cracked open to reveal Sam, one hazel eye peeking out at the person who dared to intrude on their grief.  When he saw me, he flung the door open and lunged forward, wrapping familiar arms around me.  I could feel him shuddering with the force of his tears.  I threw my arms around him, holding him just as tightly.  Until he was suddenly ripped from my arms and a glass of what I assumed was holy water was thrown in my face.  I spluttered, blinking the water out of my eyes and pushing a couple of wet strands of hair off of my face.

Dean stood in front of me, protective between me and Sam.  There was anger in his eyes, and grief.  There was a glimmer of hope, too, but I could see him fighting it.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a solver blade.  I held out my arm silently and he ran the blade over my forearm.  When nothing happened other than a thin line of blood appearing, he tucked the knife away and stared at me.  Sam stood behind him still, glancing between Dean and me.  After a moment of silence, Dean reached out to grab my arm, yanking me close so that there was no room between our bodies.  He stared down at me, so many emotions on his face. 

“That was a stupid thing to do,” he finally growled.

I smiled up at him, raising my hand to place my palm against his cheek. “You would have done the same for me.”

Then he was gripping my face, pressing his lips against mine.  I had to gasp for air as he kissed me thoroughly, like he wanted to relearn the inside of my mouth.  He didn’t let go for several minutes, making Sam cough uncomfortably behind him.  I smiled and untangled myself from Dean, but not before he pressed his lips to my forehead, my cheek, my ear, whispering “I love you” each time he did.  I whispered it back as I pulled away to smile at him.  I glanced at Sam, who was still looking uncomfortable, though he happy at the same time.  Dean pulled me all the way into the room and shut the door behind me.  I sat down on the bed that was obviously Dean’s (his bag looked like it had exploded all over it) and waited.  I knew they were going to ask.

“How…”San started, but stopped, looking at Dean.

“What brought you back?” Dean asked.

I toyed with the hem of my shorts for a moment. “An angel.”

 “Which one?”

They spoke at the same time.  I glanced between them.

“His name was Castiel.”

“Cas?” They spoke at the same time again and it made me smile.

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, watching as Dean started to pace around the room.  “He’s the one who pulled Dean out of Hell.”

“What?”

“What I don’t get,” Dean interrupted. “Is why an angel would pull a soul out of Heaven.”

I shifted.  It was small, but both of the brothers caught the movement and stared at me.  I tried to ignore their gazes, but gave up quickly.  Winchesters were stubborn and they wouldn’t leave it alone.

“I wasn’t in Heaven,” I sighed. 

“What,” Dean growled.

I avoided his eyes, staring down at my hands.  “I went to Hell.”

The words were whispered, but seemed so loud in the silent room.  Sam and Dean were shocked, I could tell.  I held out my wrist, the one Dean hadn’t cut and showed them the handprint that was burned into my skin.

“Why?” Sam whispered.

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Castiel just said that someone was collecting souls that shouldn’t have been.  So he…”

“He…?” Dean urged.

“He came to get me.  And gave me some of his grace.”

“He what?!” they both yelped.  I nodded and held out the arm that Dean had cut.   There was a flack of blue-white light and the cut was gone.  There was silence in the room for a minute.

“Wow,” Sam said.

“So, are you part angel now?” Dean wanted to know.

                 

“From what Castiel told me? Yeah, I think so.”  Sam and Dean glanced at each other and I felt nervousness gathering in my stomach. “Listen…if you don’t want me to, I won’t hunt with you guys.  I’ll leave -”

My words were cut off by Dean striding forward and pulling me into a crushing hug.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled in my ear before placing a gentle kiss on my temple.

“Yeah, (Y/N),” Sam chuckled.  “I don’t think Dean is going to be letting you out of his sight anytime soon.”

I smiled.  That was just the way I wanted it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my Chuck, nobody say anyhting to me about the season finale. I haven't been watching Season 10 (I prefer to remain in my bubble of delusion, in whish both my boys are happy. Happy-ish). I know, I'm a horrible hunter. I swear though, I'm going to download it and have a giant marathon to get caught up now!
> 
> Oh, look...I'm on tumblr. Come say hi! 
> 
> www.cate-lynne.tumblr.com


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mushy, fluffy, happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Ashley_Winchester_77

I had returned to the bunker with the boys three months ago.  True to Sam’s word, Dean rarely let me out of his sight.  Sam was almost as bad.  The Winchester brothers – the ultimate helicopter parents.  I had to start locking my bedroom door at night so that they couldn’t come in to check on me.  It was driving me crazy.  Never mind the fact that, as part angel, I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself.

One evening, we were in the library, researching ancient Egyptian curses.  I was joking around with Sam, telling him some of the best Drunk Garth stories that I remembered.  Sam was laughing so hard he was almost falling out of his chair.  Dean sat a few feet away, an amused expression on his face.  Besides the hovering, my relationship with Sam was back to what it had been before everything had happened.  I wasn’t quite ready to start trusting Dean again.

“…and then he took his shirt off!  Started stripping for the cops!”

Sam was howling with laughter and I was gasping for air.  I could feel Dean’s eyes on my face as I recounted Garth’s embarrassing show for the Denver Police Department, but I did my best to ignore him.  I was finally starting to feel happy again.

~

Dean watched as (Y/N) and Sammy laughed hysterically.  He had to admit, the idea of skinny little Garth putting on a stripper show for a bunch of cops was amusing, but the sight of his girl and his brother, so obviously close, was sobering.  After Cas had brought her back from Hell, she had told Dean that she loved him, kissing him and never straying far from him.  after a few days, she had started to withdraw from him.  Dean had felt like he was losing her all over again, but tried to focus on the fact that she was there, with him, alive.  And then Sam had stepped in.  It taken almost no time for him to coax (Y/N) back out of her shell, taking her on hunts and earning her trust back.  Not that he had done anything wrong in the first place.  It was driving Dean crazy.  Were (Y/N) and Sammy just friends?  Or something more, something better?  Jealousy burned through Dean’s veins and he had to fight to stay calm.

~

Calming down a little, Sam stood up.  “Want another beer, (Y/N)?”

“I’m good, Sammy,” I said, smiling up at him.  He left, somehow taking the relaxed atmosphere with him.  When it was just Dean and me in the room, the tension suddenly made everything seem like it was about to explode.  I tried not to look at him, staring down at the lore book that I was supposed to be reading.  The painful silence was eating away at me.  It was ridiculous.  This was Dean, it shouldn’t be so awkward around him!  I opened my mouth to try to say something, but stopped when Sam came back in.  Maybe I could talk to Dean later…

~

Two hours later, I was sitting on my bed, battered copy of _The Great Gatsby_ open on my lap when there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said absently before picking back up where I had left off, this time aloud.  “’ _Anything can happen now that we’ve slid over this bridge,’ I thought; ‘anything at all…’  Even Gatsby could happen, without any particular wonder._ ”

“Um…”

I looked up to see Dean, shifting uncomfortably in the doorway and I smiled.  “I always think about you when I read that part.”

“You do?” He tilted his head to the side, something he had picked up from Castiel, and took a few steps into the room.  “Why?”

I patted the bed in front of me and he sat down facing me.  “Well, when you think about it, everything you’ve seen and done is kind of hard to believe for normal people.”

“Yeah?”

“Until you cross over into the world of the supernatural.  You’re still amazing, just…more conceivably so.”

“Huh,” he muttered.  I could see him thinking, turning what I had said over and over in his mind.

“Don’t strain yourself,” I said dryly, making him chuckle.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?”

He shifted on the comforter, looking uncomfortable.

“What is it, Dean?” I leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm.  Something was really bothering him.  he stared down at my hand for a moment before looking up at me.

“Listen, I….I know that I messed up.  Big time.  I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.  That year and a half that you were gone was one of the worst times in my life.  I was losing my mind without you.”  I opened my mouth to speak but he shook his head. “Let me finish, please.  If you and Sam are…well, I want you to be happy.  I know I didn’t give you that, but Sam will.”

He stared down at his hands where they were in his lap.  I didn’t move.  I could barely breathe.  Dean thought...Sam and me? Together?

“Dean, I forgave you three months ago.”  His head snapped up, but I continued.  “And I don’t know where you got this idea about me and Sam being a couple from, but it’s wrong.  So wrong.  I love _you_ , idiot.”

Hope was gathering in his eyes, nearly taking my breath away with how his face lit up with his happiness.  I fished around the collar of my shirt to pull out the necklace that I had made sure I kept.  It was a tiny diamond heart.  Mary Winchester’s necklace, given to me by her oldest son.  When he saw it, his breath caught.

“I died for you, Dean.  How could you think I don’t love you?”

~

The next morning, Dean and I walked into the kitchen hand in hand.  When Sam saw us, he smiled knowingly, making me blush and Dean look away.

“’Bout time, you guys.”

“Shut your mouth,” Dean and I said at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean it this time, you guys. No more!


End file.
